


No Such Thing as Peace and Quiet

by Footloose



Series: Loaded March EXTRAS [12]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, M/M, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:04:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Footloose/pseuds/Footloose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kay is sure that it's not happening on purpose, but why does this shite keep happening to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Such Thing as Peace and Quiet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizzysarai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzysarai/gifts).



> Written as part of the Prompt Request #2 Round for Loaded March Extras:
> 
> Prompted by uchiha_sister (LJ)/ LizzySarai (AO3):  
> "Ending up in awkward situations...  
> "The beginning of part 10 always makes me laugh, poor Kay indeed. It would be awesome if we could read something from Kay's pov and how he ends up in those situations. He just seems like the type of guy to have those moments...often"
> 
> * * *

There were perks to being rich. _Serious_ perks. Don't get Kay started on Arthur's flat -- in London proper, with a loft-like master bedroom on the second floor, enough guest bedrooms to host the entire _team_ if they doubled up and Bohrs took the living room couch. The flat was nice, but Kay had a serious hard-on for the Pendragon cabin.

There was roughing it, and then there was _roughing it_ , and Kay had done the latter, complete with traumatic memories of being eaten alive by mayflies in a drug dealer's swampy backyard, where he was holding a British national as a "favour" for a terrorist organization. Kay had also _roughed it_ the way normal people roughed it, with a shitty tent that dripped like a sieve the minute the sky turned just a little bit cloudy, Kathy elbowing him in the ribs because he was _taking all the room again_ , and she was having none of his smart mouth when he asked, _why aren't you being cozy in your dickwad of a boyfriend's tent again?_ Kay had also roughed it the way no one should ever rough it, in the dead of winter with clothes he'd stolen out of the rubbish bin behind the thrift store and stuffed with warming layers of newspaper, using a flattened box for a blanket and pointedly refusing to look Arthur Pendragon in the eye when Arthur yanked the soggy-mouldy-damp cardboard off and yelled, _I don't give a goddamn about your pride, Kay. Just get your arse in the car, or I'll call Leon and he'll help me drag you there._

He'd never roughed it the way the rich roughed it, and if Kay were being honest, he kind of liked it.

The Pendragon cabin was a cabin the way the Buckingham Palace was a two-bedroom fixer-upper. It was located deep in the woods, reachable only by way of private road, and there were acres and acres of woods and wilderness _and no bloody neighbours for kilometres and kilometres_.

It was Kay's dream home, if he were the sort of throw-away rich that he could live away from civilization with nothing more than a monthly visit to pillage the market for food. He'd spend his days reading all the books he promised himself he'd read --

Oh, who was he kidding. He'd spend his days watching movies. _All the movies_. Particularly those that the team wouldn't let him watch over and over, like _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit_ , though since Merlin had joined the team, Kay had an ally when it came to veto power on movie nights.

Maybe he'd buy a couple of horses. He liked horses. He didn't know the first thing to do with horses, but he liked them.

But what he liked _better_ was how the hot water tank here, more than the hot water tank at Arthur's flat, seemed to be able to withstand the abuse beset upon it by a muddy, sweaty, stinky SAS team just getting back from the latest round of Arthur's PT and Merlin's magical training. Not only did it maintain a steady pressure, but he had yet to find an end to the hot water supply.

There was a reason why Kay hung back when everyone else called dibs on the shower. He wanted it all to himself, without someone hammering on the door yelling for him to get out because his turn was up. In particular, he wanted _this_ shower, in _this_ bathroom, because it just so happened that there was a sauna, too.

While everyone else cleaned out the refrigerator for that evening's bonfire cookout, Kay headed for the bathroom. He rinsed off as much of the mud drying on his body as was humanely possible before jumping into the infrared sauna with every intention of sweating the rest of it off.

He sank back into the dry heat, closed his eyes, and decided that he could absolutely get used to this kind of life.

If only he ever had the chance.

Kay's eyes shot open when he heard a faint bang. He was _sure_ that he had locked the bathroom door and was tempted to dismiss the noise as everything _but_ what it probably most likely definitely was. Pellinor getting a sack of potatoes from storage. Bohrs complaining about the state of the flowerbed he'd planted last fall, when they were here on R &R, and getting the gardening tools he kept stashed here. Geraint and Galahad crashing their way through the house, merrily bickering about the charcoal-to-lighter fluid ratio and both of them being wrong if their singed eyebrows were anything to go by, in search of the first aid kit, because Lance refused to move from his chair.

As far as Kay could tell, no one had jerried their way into the bathroom, and no one would, if Kay had anything to say about it. He'd shoot them if he had to.

Kay closed his eyes again.

There were hushed whispers just outside the door. The shush of clothes falling to the floor.

Kay screwed his eyes shut tight and wished he could do the same with his ears when a lusty moan made it through the sauna door.

_Goddamn it. God_ damn _it. Don't come in. Don't you fucking come into the sauna._

Kay could deal with having to use a shower after someone very obviously failed to properly rinse the walls after a ball-busting wank. He could also ignore people having sex in the next bunk, _thank you so much Gwaine_. He'd even give up his rights to the shower for the next, oh, five minutes if whoever it was _hurried the fuck up_.

But not the sauna. The sauna was sacred.

At a push, Kay would forgive Arthur and Merlin if they happened to use the sauna for anything other than its intended purpose. It was Arthur's house, and after everything that Arthur had done for Kay, Kay would forgive him pretty much anything. And although he would never say it in so many words, Merlin was his favourite, and as long as he continued to support Kay in Kay's never-ending prank war with Owain, Kay would go out of his way to help Merlin bury the proverbial body.

But the sauna was off limits _especially_ when Kay was in it, and he didn't care who was out there, fumbling around with the hasty nerves of a bloody fucking teenager.

Kay stared at the door when the thump of bodies on the other side nearly jarred it open. He considered jamming the latch in place.

Instead, he shifted a foot to the left.

The door crashed open nearly a minute later, swinging in an arc that would have taken Kay's knee along with it if he hadn't moved. He got a glimpse of a familiar arse -- familiar only in that the word _modesty_ wasn't in Gwaine's vocabulary, if he even knew what it meant -- and a second, less familiar arse that was attached to a broad back and thick legs and could only belong to Perceval.

The two stumbled into the sauna, and made absolutely no motion to shut the door. They were letting all the hot air out, and that was _it_. Kay was done.

Gwaine had Perceval pinned against the raised bench. They were sucking face like there would be no sucking face tomorrow. Perceval's neck and cheek was red from Gwaine's stubble burn; there were fresh bruises on top of fading yellow marks where Perceval was squeezing Gwaine's hips.

Kay squirted them in the face with the spray bottle of cold water. They broke apart and stared at him stupidly, first without recognition, then with a broad grin (Gwaine) and mortified glare (Perceval).

"The bathroom door was locked," Kay said, his tone flat.

"If you wanted to join us, you could've just knocked," Gwaine said, winking. 

Kay sprayed Gwaine in the face again. "No. Bad Gwaine. No."

Gwaine started to pull away from Perceval, but, thankfully, Perceval kept Gwaine where he was. "No, don't move!"

"Yes, please don't," Kay said, pained. There were some things that Kay did _not_ need to see. Or, more accurately, there were some things that Kay did not need to see _again_. There were rules about communal showering that were never to be broken, but it was understood that accidental glimpses were unavoidable. Just like there were other unavoidable sights: Perce's cock in the jar of peanut butter, for instance, was permanently burned into Kay's brain as it was. "I still need brain-bleach from the last time."

"Oh my God," Perceval groaned. He buried his head in the crook of Gwaine's neck.

Kay climbed down from the bench, a hand making sure his towel didn't slip, and held the spray bottle at Gwaine for good measure. "I'm going to turn the radio on real loud. I'm going to have a shower. Neither of you are allowed anywhere near the shower. And, for fuck's sake, sanitize the damn sauna when you're done."

He backed out of the sauna, shifting his aim to Perceval and back to Gwaine.

"Are you sure you don't want to stick around?" Gwaine asked.

Kay sprayed him with half the bottle before reaching over and slamming the door to the sauna shut.

"God _damn_ it," Kay swore. "If they're doing it on purpose, _I swear to God_ , I'll kill them."


End file.
